Trying to accept what isn't meant for me.

That he isn't the one.

There was a time he said he was.

I feel the sad smile on my face.

The wrinkle on my forehead, caused by him.

Even though it wasn't our fate to be

I hope he thinks of me.

When the other girls don't sing along to our songs.

When they don't laugh the way I did.

When they don't get excited about the moon and the stars.

It's selfish,
but I hope he searches for traces of me in all the girls to come.